


{momentum}

by Naemi



Category: The Closer
Genre: Airplanes, Friendship, Gen, Having a Moment, stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 17:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17047850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naemi/pseuds/Naemi
Summary: “Well, Sharon, since we're gonna spend all this time together, whether we want to or not, I figure we might as well make conversation.”





	{momentum}

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/gifts).



> Dear sarken, 
> 
> I know it's not much, but I sure do hope it's a moment that will make you smile. Happy Yule.

“Miss? Excuse me, Miss?”

Brenda leans over Sharon, which is almost a physical impossibility in this uncomfortably small space, and waves in the flight attendant's face as she approaches.

“Miss, please, is there an update on the take-off delay?”

“I'm sorry, Ma'am, I have no new information,” the flight attendant says with a smile Sharon thinks is as forced as it is rehearsed. Not that she takes a close look; she had buried herself behind a newspaper right after boarding, and even though she has already read it by now, she prefers using it as a shield against any and all conversation.

With Brenda crowding her space even more, however, there's little use in pretending. Sharon peers over the newspaper's edge and answers the flight attendant's smile with an understanding look.

“Sorry to bother you.”

Although Brenda's face is all smiles as she sits back ever so slowly, her eyes are on fire; of course she noticed the barb directed at her. The woman may be a bit of a nuisance, but stupid she is not.

Ignoring her, Sharon returns her attention to the article about excessive force used by police—a fitting read, considering they're on their way to an interstate conference concerning that matter, among others—and for about two more minutes, silence embraces her.

Then, Brenda mumbles, “Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no,” and even though she appears to be talking to herself, there's an urgency to her voice that Sharon can't quite ignore.

“What is it?” Sharon asks over the rustle of her newspaper as she folds it in the middle. Brow furrowed, Brenda looks at the piece of paper her tightly clenched fist crumples around the edge.

“That can't be right.” Her southern accent is honey-thick.

While Sharon still debates whether to repeat the question, the speaker crackles, and the copilot says something in the sonorous way in which all flight crew announce everything. Sharon strains her ears but picks up little more than “further delay” and “inconvenience.”

“Looks like we're not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Brenda's frown deepens, and then, as if she flipped a switch, her features soften. That smile of hers which Sharon never knows if it's Southern Belle in general or Brenda Leigh Johnson in particular appears on her lips. She stuffs the piece of paper in the purse at her feet and turns to face Sharon.

“Well, Captain Raydor—Sharon …” She interrupts herself, shakes her head. “Sorry. I'm still not used to it.”

“Understandable.” A tiny smile plays about Sharon's lips.

“Well, Sharon, since we're gonna spend all—” she waves her hand in a wide semicircle as she draws out the word, “—this time together, whether we want to or not, I figure we might as well make conversation.”

“Of course. Yes. Why not,” Sharon replies out of courtesy, although she really doesn't feel like talking, she doesn't think it will lead anywhere.

“Good. Yes. That would be nice.”

“Yes, very nice.”

Sharon's smile grows tighter as Brenda's grows wider and unused seconds tick away. The silence between them is intensified by the hushed sounds coming from the other Airbus passengers: shuffling feet, rustling paper, quiet conversations.

“What would you like to talk about?” Sharon asks eventually, expecting Brenda to have no idea. Sure enough, she shrugs lightly.

“Tell me something about you.”

“Something that will make you like me better?”

“I know hardly anything about you, so I cannot possibly have formed an opinion about how well I like you.”

It makes Sharon laugh, softly and quietly. “We both know that's not true. And, no offense, I don't think you really want to know anything about me at all.”

Brenda stares at her, mouth slightly open, nose slightly wrinkled. She blinks once, very slowly, and says, “Not necessarily, no.”

Sharon nods.

“No offense.”

“None taken.”

The two women look at each other for another moment, then Sharon tilts her head to the side and lifts her newspaper, as if to ask permission. Brenda's gaze flicks down, up again; she nods.

“Of course.”

Sharon has barely unfolded her paper when Brenda blurts, “It's just that airplanes always make me awful nervous.”

“Huh.”

“They do. Especially those that won't start.”

She looks out the window, and Sharon does the same. The early morning is unusually gray by Los Angeles standards, almost as if this day is as annoyed about their upcoming weekend spent together as they both are, and it shows it with gusts of wind and a few errant drops of rain.

“I mean, seriously, how can you squeeze an airplane full of people and notice only then that there's 'an issue?' What's that even mean? An issue? What kind of issue?”

Sharon shifts her gaze from the window to Brenda. She seems upset, but not in an imminent panic way. “I'm sure it's nothing.”

“That nothing has kept us on this plane for an hour now.”

“Not quite.”

Brenda turns to her and watches her through squinted eyes. “It _feels_ longer. And I hate this feeling. And I don't get it, either. What's so hard about letting us back out while they fix whatever, or giving us a different plane, or …” She brushes a wayward strand of hair aside and lets out a long exhale. “I'm sorry.”

“No. I get it,” Sharon says with a nod. “And I don't like it, either. It reminds me of …”

“Yes?”

“I don't know if this is a particularly good story to tell right now.”

“Why not?”

“Well, do you have fear of flying?”

“No. It just … Flying annoys me, you see. Too little space, too many sounds, too many strangers. Time lost, too. Sitting here doing nothing makes me anxious.”

“I'm surprised you didn't bring any work.”

“I did. Well, meant to.” Brenda bites out a laugh. “It's still on the living room table. I believe.”

“You must have been in quite a hurry this morning.”

“Indeed. And now we're stuck, I'm annoyed, I'm already out of Ding Dongs, and I really need to pee.”

Brenda leans back in her seat and wraps her arms around her chest.

“That's … unfortunate.” Sharon remains straight-faced for all of a second, but Brenda looks and sounds so much like a petulant child right now that she can’t help but chuckle.

Much to Sharon's surprise, Brenda joins in. “I know, right?” she snorts between giggles. “I'm such a mess.”

“I can't relate to the Ding Dong crisis, you know, but …” Sharon leans a little closer, almost conspiratorially, and continues in a hushed voice. “I really need to pee, too.”

The women lock eyes. A moment of silence passes, then they both crack up again. Their joint laughter floats through the airplane, and someone behind them hisses, “Quiet, dammit,” but neither of them cares.

When they've composed themselves, Brenda rummages about her purse and retrieves the piece of paper. She smoothes it out, takes another eye-rolling look at it, and says, “I checked our information from the hotel Pope gave me, by the way. It says we're booked to a double room.”

“And that upsets you.”

“And you?”

Sharon shrugs. “It could be worse. We could be stuck with someone very unlikable, for example.”

“Hm.” Brenda tilts her head to the side. “You know what? I think—Oh, hey, Miss. Excuse me …”

Shaking her head, Sharon leans back into her seat as Brenda leans over her to stop the flight attendant on her way past them.

At least they had a moment. That's way more than Sharon expected out of this trip at all.

And maybe, more moments will follow, now the ice has been broken.

Even though this definitely isn't one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful **Moit** , who also made sure all characters were returned unharmed.
> 
> [Visit my LJ-community [Bunny Bash](https://bunnybash.livejournal.com) to leave me a prompt at any time.]
> 
> [Feedback is love.]


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